Playing the Game
by Maria Ana
Summary: Cassius Warrington has never had a problem playing the Dark Lord's game, that is until he witnesses an exchange between two very unlikely people.


Notes; This is my first piece for the Collect Them All Challenge. It's been years since I've written anything at all so I apologize for any mistakes.

Character; Cassius Warrington  
Prompts; "Well my best side was your worst invention."- Taking Back Sunday & tremble.

**Playing the Game**

Cassius Warrington was to become the perfect Death Eater, a destiny sealed far before he was even out of the womb. In a family of Pure-Blooded elitists, taught by his sadistic father and aloof mother, it was no surprise he was one the the Dark Lord's highest ranked soldiers. At age three the word 'mudblood' played a large part in his limited vocabulary. By age seven he was able to recite his entire family tree, which he'd rehearse proudly in front of his mother and her harpy friends. By the time he'd begun his 3rd year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he could preform the Unforgivables with ease and knew how each one of them looked when used on another human being. And at nineteen, he was part of Voldemort's inner circle.

But this was to be expected of him. He had no siblings, so the responsibility of upholding the Warrington name was placed solely upon his shoulders. He was the image of Pure-Blood supremacy, from his sharp features and cunning nature to his family's wealth which, rather impressively if he did say so himself, rivaled the Malfoys. A Slytherin to the core, his only goal in school was not to make friends or be well liked but rather self preservation. He sucked up to the right people when it was necessary, kept his head low, and did what was required.

After taking the Dark Mark and quickly moving up in rank, the young man could feel the envious glares of his fellow 'brethren' every time he entered a room. He tortured, maimed, and killed without blinking an eye. He wasn't particularly proud of the things he did, but if it was between him or them, it'd be them every time. He was often praised by Voldemort himself for successful missions and his vicious actions. As time went on he realized even his father held a bitter resentment towards him for his accomplishments. Everyone believed him to be the favorite.

But he knew better.

Cassius knew his place in life. He was not foolish like so many of the Dark Lord's followers, vying to be the favorite and deluding themselves into believing he actually cared for them. No, young Cassius knew they were all just pawns in a game much larger than any of them could even fathom. But that didn't mean he wouldn't play the game better than all of them.

He had never doubted the path he was on, not until the Battle of Hogwarts.

He'd been hiding behind the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office in hopes of catching Potter should he decide to pay a visit, when a scuffling to his left caught his attention. Immediately training his wand on the figure, he watched in rising curiosity as she skidded to a halt only a few feet away from the statue he was carefully concealed behind and frantically looked around, obviously searching for someone or something.

He recognized her right away, of course. Her chestnut colored hair was messier than usual and the blue jumper she wore was torn in several places and smudged with dirt and blood . A wound above her left eye was steadily oozing the crimson fluid, but instead of trying to staunch it she merely swiped at it distractedly.

Cassius could see her panic mounting and she was so near he could hear her muttering over and over again, "Where is he?"

Ah, so Mudblood Granger was waiting for someone, was she? He almost snorted in disgust. Her red headed, blood traitor lover, no doubt. He'd take her out now, put her out of her misery. Surely offing her quickly would be better than anything another Death Eater had planned for her.

The curse died on his lips when someone else passed his hiding place, alerting the young witch, and he watched as her once distressed expression melted into one of pure relief in a matter of seconds. There was no hesitation in her movements as she opened her arms to embrace this man, clutching at the tattered remains of his cloak while he placed a chaste kiss to the crown of her head.

A mixture of shock and confusion coursed through him.

For the was no mistaking the trademark blonde hair of the wizard willing clutching the Mudblood to him for dear life.

Cassius grew up with Draco Malfoy and though they were never the best of friends, they knew each other well enough. Both were subjected to a similar upbringing and had certain expectations of them and though he loathe to admit it, he wouldn't have minded befriending the Malfoy boy. Draco, though being raised much the same way he'd been, seemed to hold on to his humanity. He never killed and had been punished by his bat-shit crazy aunt numerous of times for being too weak to carry out the Dark Lord's orders. He took every punishment quietly, never pled or screamed, he'd stopped his pathetic sniveling long ago. That alone had gained Cassius's respect. So when he'd noticed a slight change in the youngest Malfoy, the air of defiance that now emitted around him, he figured it was just a stir of teenage rebellion. The idea of Draco Malfoy changing alliances because of a Mudblood girl was almost laughable to say the least.

Malfoy was the first to pull away and shaking his head, began dabbing at the cut above her eye with his sleeve. "Thought I told you to keep your pretty little arse out of trouble, Granger." The comment was meant to be teasing, but there was an unmistakeable waver in his voice.

She gave a wet giggle, a few fat tears trailing their way down her dirty cheeks. But she smiled brightly up at him when she replied. "Have you met my best mates?"

He gave bark of laughter while pulling her in close again, cupping the sides of her face lovingly. "I assure you I have, love, and meeting those two gits was the most unpleasant experience of my life."

And then he leaned forward and captured her lips with his own. It was only then did Cassius lower his wand arm for he knew he couldn't find it in himself to hurt either of them. Not because he cared for them or witnessing this intimate moment had changed his beliefs, beliefs that had been engraved in him since the day he was born. No, he lowered his wand simply because like himself, Malfoy was not stupid. He'd realized Voldemort's game long ago and instead of continuing to play like Cassius had, he'd taken his destiny into his own hands.

He was not sure how long he stood rooted to the spot, watching as words of love and reassurance were exchanged between the two before a shout from the stairwell above willed them away from each other. Malfoy passed the gargoyle statue once more, and it was only when he stopped and turned to glance over his shoulder one last time at the retreating witch was he able to see Draco's face. Though his expression was serious and one of determination, the fear and uncertainty he'd tried to keep from his lover was more evident than ever. But beneath that his usually stoic gray eyes held a spark of hope, something Cassius couldn't recall ever seeing in his fellow Slytherin.

"Be safe, Granger." With those last, hoarsely whispered words the other boy was gone.

The rest of the night was a blur of spells, screams and death. Walls crumbled around them, people were shoved out of the way and trampled in the frenzy. After awhile Cassius quit trying to distinguish ally from enemy and took to cursing anything that moved. He lost track of the number of bodies that fell at the end of his wand or the number of times he'd come close to joining them himself.

It was only in the early hours of the next morning did the Dark Lord fall. The battle ended quickly after that, the Death Eaters efficiently rounded up by aurors.

Now bound and wandless, Cassius was being led by Kingsley Shacklebolt to a point of apparation, where he'd be taken to Azkaban and sentenced. He wasn't sure where his parents were, if they were even still alive. The dark skinned wizard was speaking to him in a low, authoritative voice but he wasn't listening. He was sweeping the Great Hall for his family when his eyes landed on a large group of people crowded together. It wasn't the solemn looks on their faces or the fact that there was a body laid out on the floor before them that caused him to come to a dead halt, but rather the hysterical young woman being restrained by the Golden Boy himself.

She was screaming and thrashing about, tears and dried blood mingling on her face. Her expression was one of absolute defeat which didn't seem to fit in since their side had won. They should have been celebrating, instead those around her were watching sadly, some with tears of their own welling in their eyes. Potter said something that must have gotten through to her because her whole body seemed to sag in grief. Her knees buckled and he guided her to the ground where she seemed to sob from the very depths of her soul, her petite body trembling from the force of them.

He was urged to continue walking when the auror beside him jostled his arm impatiently, which was fine by him. He had no desire to watch any longer. It was no mystery as to whose death had caused Granger such pain.

The shock of platinum blonde hair Cassius caught a glimpse of as he rounded the corner was the only confirmation he needed.


End file.
